» 



I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.! 

[TED STATES OF AMERICA. 



fl 







«« » ♦ •+" 



mm kdghbibs, tpmb bojetye, 



^ \f\J wwwwwuvwvwv w WWW WW^ 




5 



AAAA/lAAAAAAAA/\A/\AAAAAAO/)AA^ 



HISTORY 



JOHN ROGERS, THE MARTYR. 




Written for the Massachusetts Sabbath School Society, and 
approved by the Committee of Publication, 



BOSTON: 

MASSACHUSETTS SABBATH SCHOOL SOCIETY, 
Depository, No. 13 Comhill. 

1851. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 185 1, 

By CHRISTOPHER C. DEAN, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



JOHN ROGERS, THE MARTYR. 



What child, who has ever seen or studied 
the old fashioned Primer, with its pictorial 
11 Alphabet," its " Instructive Questions and 
Answers," its " Creed," its " Cradle Hymn," 
its Smithfield scene, with the memorable 
poem which accompanies it — what child, 
we ask, who has gazed with sympathetic 
sorrow on that group of little children clus- 
tering about their afflicted mother, as they 
stand by the blazing pile which consumes 
the body of their sole earthly protector, has 
not earnestly desired to know something 
more of the sad history than the one brief 
paragraph in the Primer contains 7 Ah, how 
many tears have been shed over that rude 



8 



engraving, with only that short sentence, 
and the martyr's " Advice" to throw light 
on the pitiful picture ! And how many 
questions have been asked about " John 
Rogers," of those who knew nothing of 
him save what the Primer imparted in the 
days of their own childhood ! 

In the following pages we propose to 
offer a few brief incidents in the life and 
death of one whose name has been a house- 
hold word for many generations past, and 
whose pictured circumstances of distress 
have moved the sensibilities of childhood 
throughout Christendom. 

The story is written, children, for you : 
and it is to be hoped that the lessons of 
piety and Christian fortitude which it incul- 
cates, will be for your u instruction in 
righteousness." 

But in order that you should perfectly 
understand how Mr. Rogers came to be a 
martyr — that is, how he came to suffer 
death for a steady adherence to those views 
of religious truth which the Word of God 



THE MARTYR. 

teaches, it will be necessary to go back a 
few years antecedent to this date to show 
the causes which operated to produce it — 
causes chiefly traceable to the bigotry, cru- 
elty, and intolerance of the Romish church. 
And for this purpose we will introduce our 
narrative with the story of 

THE CHILD-KING. 

Henry the Eighth, of England, was one 
of the most selfish, profligate, and corrupt 
kings that ever sat on a throne. The blood 
of his unfortunate subjects was made to 
flow in rivers if necessary, to gratify his 
passion, policy or caprice ; even those allied 
to him by the nearest and tenderest of 
human ties, had no immunity from con- 
spiracy, false accusation, or violent death, 
if they chanced to stand in the way of his 
personal indulgence or political aggrandize- 
ment. Perverse and inflexible in his pur- 
poses, he chose to promote to places of rank 
and office, such men only as would yield 



10 JOHN 

themselves tools to work his will, however 
unreasonable and malicious. For those 
who opposed the weight of intellect or in- 
fluence against his gross vices, or his cruel 
rapacity, there was neither justice nor 
mercy. 

Before these sad and bloody days, the 
church of Rome had held all nations in its 
grasp ; at least it was thought to have a 
right, superior to that of kings and empe- 
rors, to dictate and to command. For 
many centuries this power had been grow- 
ing more and more arbitrary, all over Eu- 
rope, till few had dared even to question it. 
Such as had the courage to do so, were 
deemed too impious to live, and were dealt 
with accordingly. It was accounted her- 
esy to doubt any thing, however absurd 
or wicked which the Pope and his Cardi- 
nals thought expedient for the poor igno- 
rant people to believe; whether the Bible 
said so or not, it made no difference ; — it 
was the business of the people to believe 
what their priests told them — and alas, they 



THE MARTYR. 11 

had small means of examining for them- 
selves, had they been allowed to do so, or 
possessed the requisite intelligence; for they 
had not the Bible as you have, children ; it 
was a sealed book to all but the learned, 
being in a language which the common 
people could neither read nor understand : 
all they knew of it was by the interpreta- 
tion of the priests, many of whom were so 
ignorant they could neither read or explain 
correctly the simplest of its precepts. But 
this was a state of things most favorable to 
perpetuate the power and authority of the 
Pope. The enlightened and intelligent, 
were regarded with suspicion, and not un- 
frequently branded as heretics if they ven- 
tured to dissent from the great Head and 
Body of this corrupt church, and the very 
lightest punishment the heretic might ex- 
pect was excommunication, which in those 
days was a terrible thing — inasmuch as the 
subject of it was thereby cut off from all 
civil, ecclesiastical, or personal rights and 
privileges ; his property confiscated, and 



12 JOHN ROGERS, 

himself reduced to the utmost degree of 
want and misery ; while no one might aid, 
protect, or befriend him, on the penalty of a 
similar punishment. Torture, penance, or 
even death itself were oftentimes chosen by 
the unfortunate heretic, rather than excom- 
munication. 

But after many years this spiritual bond- 
age became quite intolerable, and a few 
bold spirits had dared to dispute the pro- 
gress of so abject a despotism. Martin 
Luther, and many other noble names, had 
arisen in Germany, and after a fierce con- 
flict with the " Man of Sin," had succeeded 
in throwing off a yoke which they were no 
longer able to endure. From thence, the 
Reformation had spread among the Euro- 
pean nations, and was now taking gigantic 
strides towards the attainment of that lib- 
erty of conscience which is perfectly conso- 
nant with the teachings of our Lord and 
Saviour Jesus Christ. 

King Henry the Eighth was for many 
years a staunch and unscrupulous papist. 



THE MARTYR. 13 

Indeed, so long as nothing occurred to 
thwart his selfish plans, or oppose his iron 
will, the Pope might do what he pleased. 
His gross and sensual nature had little 
regard to the commands of Him who is 
11 Head over all, God blessed forever;" for 
his self-styled vicegerent he was capable of 
only an apparent reverence ; and therefore 
when some intervention of papal authority 
threatened to subvert certain darling schemes 
of his own, King Henry, brimming with 
anger, suddenly assumed an attitude of 
defiance, and declared his kingdom exempt 
from the dominion of the Roman Pontiff. 
He himself would thenceforth become head 
of both church and state to his people. 

So bold and decisive a measure excited 
various emotions among all classes in Eng- 
land. Some disapproved, others extolled 
the course the king had taken ; and among 
the latter were the poor trembling Protest- 
ants of his realm, who hoped to find a cov- 
ert from the tempest of persecution under 
the wing of their own sovereign, as he now 
2 



14 JOHN ROGERS, 

no longer acknowledged allegiance to Rome, 
the parent of bigotry, crime, and cruelty, 
towards all abettors of the Reformation. 
But, alas, their expectations were doomed 
to bitter disappointment. Henry had only 
transferred to his own hand the persecuting 
policy; still the fires of martyrdom blazed 
over the devoted island, and added many a 
name of which the world was not worthy, 
to the saintly catalogue, who sealed the 
testimony of Jesus with their blood. 

Multitudes left their native land to seek 
a temporary residence till the storm which 
beat upon their unhappy country should be 
allayed ; and many already abroad, de- 
ferred their return for like reasons — they 
would not rashly or needlessly rush into 
danger or death ; neither would they shrink 
from it should God in his providence plain- 
ly call them thus to witness for the truth. 

Such was the state of affairs in England 
when Henry the Eighth was called to 
answer his last account, before the " King 
of kings and Lord of lords;" leaving his 



THE MARTYR. 15 

crown and throne to his son, Edward the 
Sixth, who was only nine years old. 

Think of it, little readers — a boy of nine 
years, a king ! Perhaps some of you think 
you should like to be a king and wear a 
crown of gold and diamonds, and have 
plenty of money and jewels; live in a 
palace and be served by every one; — what 
a merry time you would expect — what con- 
tinued enjoyment of power and pleasure ! 
Let me beg of you not to harbor so mis- 
taken an idea ; — the king on his throne has 
no happiness like that of the lowly born 
subject ; his heart aches with anxieties, 
cares, and apprehensions ; his head throbs 
with pain under an oppressive sense of 
burdens and responsibilities ; he has no 
quiet slumbers at night, like yours; — no joy 
and lightness of heart such as the poorest 
child may find in its innocent frolics ! No, 
no ! Kings are to be pitied far more than 
envied, and so are the children of kings 
who are brought up to so sad an inheritance 
as a crown ! Doubtless every true friend 



16 



of little Edward the Sixth wept tears of 
sympathy when the diadem was placed 
upon his childish brow, knowing full well 
that in those dark and troubled times, it 
could do no less than pierce like a crown 
of thorns ! 

But this "Child-King" possessed some 
things which all children may laudably 
desire ; nay, which they should pray for, 
and incessantly strive to obtain ; he had a 
Christian spirit — a heart renewed by the 
Holy Ghost even in his childhood; he had 
such an earnest zeal for the spread of gospel 
truth in its purity, and simplicity, and for 
the overthrow of error, delusion and super- 
stition in his own land, that he has been 
called the English Josiah ; and indeed, he 
strongly resembled that young Jewish mon- 
arch, who set himself so resolutely to sup- 
press the gross idolatry into which his 
people had fallen. 

A perfect contrast to his father, was 
young Edward, in mind, in spirit, in civil 
policy — indeed in every thing: his rare 



THE MARTYR. 17 

kingly virtues won him the admiration of 
men who had grown gray in the service of 
church and state — while his deep con- 
sistent personal piety was a rebuke often- 
times to those who were set apart as teach- 
ers of religion. He took the Bible for his 
counselor, and learned thence those lofty 
principles and precepts which are as well 
adapted to guide the monarch on his throne, 
as the beggar at his footstool ; and so firm 
and fearless was his adherence thereto in 
the administration of his government, that 
it has been said with much justice, he 
would have become a martyr had he not 
been a king. 

It is a piety so fervent, so decided, and 
so consistent, that we would beg the young 
to imitate in Edward the Sixth. Piety be- 
comes a cottage just as well as a throne. 
It is a kingly quality in a servant as well 
as a prince ; it ennobles, and beautifies 
every character, and confers a crown at 
last — a " crown of glory that fadeth not 
away!" Doubtless this blessed young king 
2* 



18 JOHN ROGERS, 

now wears that crown : you and I may 
one day wear it if we will seek for it as he 
did ; " Laying up treasure in heaven where 
the moth and the rust cannot corrupt, and 
where thieves never break through and 
steal. " 

The reign of the Child-King was des- 
tined to be a very short one. God called 
him to his own presence, and an inherit- 
ance among the sanctified, when he had 
worn an earthly diadem for six years and 
eight months; but in that brief period he 
had done what he could to eradicate Po- 
pery from his kingdom, and place Protest- 
antism on a secure foundation; he had 
simplified the order of public worship, re- 
moved the tokens of the Romish superstition 
from the churches, recalled many of the 
pious and earnest Reformers whom the per- 
secutions of Henry the Eighth had driven 
into exile ; and had done his utmost to 
place the Word of God in the hands of the 
people. The Pope, you know, does not 
approve of this ; its enlightening influence 



THEMARTYR. 19 

is not favorable to a quiet endurance of the 
spiritual despotism which it has ever been 
the policy of the Roman Church to exercise 
over the great masses of common people. 
They must be kept in gross darkness, or 
they will discover the chains with which 
their souls are bound, and break them 
asunder. But Edward the Sixth was not 
afraid of the teachings of such a book; he 
knew it was a safe directory for the simple 
as well as the wise, the poor as well as the 
rich, the lowly as well as the lofty. But 
in those days the chief difficulty lay in de- 
vising a way by which they could have 
access to the sacred pages. It was impos- 
sible for the Bible to circulate as it does 
among us — can you think why, children ? 
In the first place it was comparatively a 
rare book ; — and again, the people were 
ignorant from long neglect and oppression. 
It was very costly, too, and the poor could 
by no means afford to purchase copies ; — 
and then the art of printing had but re- 
cently been discovered, and was yet in d> 



20 JOHN ROGERS, 

very imperfect state ; besides, people had 
just begun to think about having Bibles in 
the English language ; they had heretofore 
been in Latin, which only the priests and 
the great men were acquainted with ; so 
you can readily perceive there were many 
obstacles to be removed before the poor 
people could become familiar with the ora- 
cles of God. Just for a moment contrast 
their condition with yours, dear children. 
Every one of you may own an entire 
Bible for a very trifling sum ; every one of 
you have been taught to read it when so 
young you can hardly remember it ; and 
its meaning has been so often explained to 
you in the Sabbath school, that it has grown 
so familiar you scarcely heed what your 
teachers say, or even what your Bible says, 
more than just to learn the texts of which 
your lesson may consist. Ah, how much 
greater will be your accountability than 
thai of the children of King Edward's time! 
Much will be required where much is given, 
yon must remember ; therefore improve to 



THE MARTYR, 21 

the utmost the brilliant light of truth and 
wisdom which shines about your privileged 
pathway, all the distance from the cradle 
to the tomb. 

But those who sincerely desire and re- 
solve to benefit others, will not be disheart- 
ened by many difficulties ; and King Ed- 
ward and his ministers provided for the 
spiritual improvement of the people as well 
as the times would allow. A copy of the 
Bible in English, with some approved com- 
mentary annexed, was ordered to be sta- 
tioned in some public place in every town, 
whither the people might resort to read for 
themselves, or bring some one to read for 
them when unable to do so ! This was 
the very best expedient they could devise, 
and a sorry one enough we should regard 
it in these days ; yet it was a considerable 
improvement on the former advantages of 
the English peasantry, and contributed 
greatly to their instruction and enlighten- 
ment. Just think ! to have but one Bible 
in a whole town, and that one chained to 



22 



its place, so that no one should remove it! 
How we pity the poor men and women 
who must travel a long distance just to 
spell out a few lines of the precious mes- 
sage which God has sent to the nations, in 
his holy word. Let us appreciate the bless- 
ings of our own times, as we compare 
them with the past, and of our abundance, 
send forth to those who are groping in the 
yet grosser darkness of heathen idolatry. 
Oh, is not this a fitting time for carrying 
out our Lord's sublime injunction to send 
this glorious gospel to every creature ; when 
it can be so easily and so cheaply multi- 
plied by the mighty aids and agencies 
which we have lived to see in successful 
operation? If all children who have a 
Bible of their own, were just to ask and act 
upon the question, " Lord, what wilt thou 
have me to do" in the matter? it would 
perhaps be accomplished before another 
ration should be gathered to their 
Oil hers. 

Young lid ward the Sixth labored dili- 



THE MARTYR. 23 

gently and zealously, as we have said, for 
the suppression of Popery and the advance- 
ment of the Reformation in his kingdom ; 
and he had a great band of devoted help- 
ers in the good work ; but still there were 
very many who opposed it secretly, if they 
dared not do it openly; and who only 
waited for a favorable time to avow hos- 
tility to the Protestant cause. But its 
popularity was now so strong, that they 
were obliged to pay a show of respect at 
least, and restrain the outflowings of an 
intolerant and persecuting spirit. A strong 
band of Reformers, we have said, gathered 
about their youthful sovereign, and statedly, 
and successfully proclaimed the truth as it 
is in Jesus. Among these hardy pioneers 
in a glorious warfare, was the subject of 
our little sketch — John Rogers. 

But the appointed work of this excellent 
young king was drawing to a close. A 
lingering but hopeless malady had fastened 
itself upon him, and was slowly but surely 
sapping the foundations of his mortal exist- 



24 JOHN ROGERS, 

ence. It was a gloomy prospect for Prot- 
estantism; it was the reviving hope of the 
Papal power; for a reason we will briefly 
explain. 

Edward had two sisters, or rather half 
sisters, older than himself — Mary and Eliz- 
abeth. The eldest of these princesses, was 
the rightful successor to the crown, in case 
he should die without any children of his 
own ; and here was the source of the bit- 
terest trial reserved for his declining days; 
for he saw himself fading like a half-blown 
flower in life's spring morning, and he saw 
that in his early death an unutterable 
calamity would fall upon his poor Protest- 
ant subjects; — for the Lady Mary, the 
heiress apparent, was a bigoted Catholic, 
and would, he well knew, speedily revive 
those fires of persecution and martyrdom, 
which in his brief reign had been quenched. 
Edward knew, and his people knew, that 
the blood of the faithful must again flow 
like water in the desperate struggle which 
would certainly ensue for the ascendency 



THE MARTYR, 25 

of Popery; and in an agony of apprehen- 
sion he sought, with the concurrence of the 
ministers of state, to devise some measure 
to avert a stroke so disastrous to the public 
welfare, so calamitous to the church of 
Christ, just recovering from the capricious 
tyranny of Henry. And so in the days of 
his languishing, he adopted the only expe- 
dient in his power ; and transferred the 
succession from his sister Mary to his 
cousin, the Lady Jane Grey, an enlight- 
ened Protestant as well as a beautiful and 
exemplary young Christian, and one who 
would help onward the blessed Reforma- 
tion. 

This done, the young king rapidly de- 
clined. " About three hours before his 
death," writes one, "his eyes being closed, 
and supposing no one in hearing, he 
breathed this memorable prayer, so full of 
pious resignation, yet so conscious, like 
Paul, that to abide still in the flesh were 
seemingly more needful for his beloved 
people. 

3 



26 JOHN 

11 ' Lord God, deliver me out of this miser- 
able and wretched life, and take me among 
thy chosen. Lord, 1 commit my spirit unto 
thee ; thou knowest how happy it were for 
me to be with thee ; yet for thine elect's 
sake, send me again life and health that 
I may truly serve thee. O my Lord God, 
bless thy people and save thine inheritance ! 
O Lord God, save thy chosen people of 
England ! O Lord God, defend this realm 
from Popery, and maintain thy true re- 
ligion, that I and my people may praise 
thy holy name for thy son Jesus Christ's 
sake.' 

11 His dying prayer was granted, and his 
realm fully delivered from Popery within a 
few years afterward, but not till God had 
branded it with a fiery memento of its 
shame, in yielding once more to the impious 
sway of its great enemy." 

The last words of Edward were, " I am 

faint — Lord have mercy on me, and take 

ipiritj" and thus he fell asleep in the 

arms of that compassionate Saviour who 



THE MARTYR. 27 

/ 

delights in the service of the young, in the 
sixteenth year of his age, and the seventh 
of his reign. We may be permitted to 
follow him in imagination to heaven, and 
hear him welcomed as a good and faithful 
servant into the joy of his Lord. 

After the decease of Edward, the Lady 
Jane Grey was proclaimed queen, to the 
exclusion of the princesses Mary and Eliz- 
abeth. But many of the people were dis- 
satisfied with this arrangement, and so 
they revoked the instrument which con- 
ferred the crown upon the Lady Jane, and 
under the most solemn promises and pledges 
that she would befriend and protect the 
Protestants, elevated Mary to the throne of 
her ancestors. 

But children, it is one of the elementary 
maxims of the Romish Church, to " keep 
no faith with heretics; 5 ' and, as Protestants 
are those who deny the power and author- 
ity of the Pope, and are consequently here- 
tics in their views, Queen Mary felt under 
no obligation to keep her promises of leni- 



2S JOHN 

ence towards the advocates of the Refor- 
mation ; and, accordingly, she commenced 
one of the bitterest persecutions which the 
world in modern times, has known. There 
was no more safety for the zealous and 
earnest preachers of the Truth — the simple 
truth as it fell from a Saviour's lips, un- 
attended with pompous rites, festivals, 
shows and formulas ; for in the days of the 
apostles, and, for many years afterwards, 
such things were unknown. There was 
no longer protection for the humble wor- 
shiper of God as a spirit, instead of saints 
and images, sacraments and relics. The 
prisons were crowded, and blood began to 
flow. The beautiful and innocent Lady 
Jane Grey was hurried to the scaffold, to 
atone for a reluctant consent to wear a 
crown but a single day. Truly it was but 
a crown of thorns, and soon exchanged for 
a crown of glory and rejoicing among the 
lis whose spotless purity her own re- 
led. She died with all the heroism of 
a martyr, although not such in the strict 



THE MARTYR, 29 

sense of the term; but she possessed the 
martyr spirit, and would very likely have 
suffered at the stake, in defence of those 
principles of religious liberty and faith, 
which animated her youthful heart, while 
she yielded up her life upon a bloody 
scaffold, as the usurper of a throne and 
crown ! 

But the details of her interesting history 
do not properly belong to the range of this 
brief sketch ; it is enough to remark, that 
with her barbarous execution began the 
sanguinary work of one whose name will 
go down to the remotest posterity, coupled 
with the most fearful of epithets, but yet 
most appropriately descriptive of the char- 
acter and reign of Bloody Mary ! 

The efforts of young Edward the Sixth 
for the enlightenment of the public mind 
were instantly annulled. The teaching or 
preaching of Protestant clergymen was pro- 
hibited ; while the Bibles — the great, chain- 
ed, folio Bibles, were removed from their 
public stations, and forbidden to be read or 



30 JOHN 

explained. All were commanded to return 
to the old Popish doctrines and worship, 
on pain of persecution and death. And, in 
order to secure the obedience of the com- 
mon people, it was thought politic to make 
examples of some of their most able and 
gifted preachers. Those ministers, there- 
fore, who had been popular and successful 
advocates of the Reformation, were accord- 
ingly first made to feel the weight of Mary's 
wrath, joined with that of the Roman 
pontiff, to whom she had surrendered her 
conscience as well as her kingdom. And 
this brings us to John Rogers, the first 
Christian martyr, under the reign of this 
bloody princess. 

This eminent minister of Christ was, in 
his early youth, regarded as a lad of great 
promise, of unusual ability and scholarship. 
He received his education at the University 
of Cambridge, in England, and was design- 
ed for the church. After finishing his colle- 
giate course, he was invited by a company 
of English merchants, at Antwerp, to be- 



THE MARTYR. 31 

come their chaplain. He consented, and 
for some time discharged the duties of his 
office with a fidelity and fervor, which won 
him the respect of all who knew him. But 
the Reformation was rapidly progressing in 
the German provinces, and Mr. Rogers very 
soon became a thorough convert to Protest- 
antism. Here, too, he became acquainted 
with several earnest and godly men, who 
were diligently engaged in translating the 
Bible into the English language, for the 
use of those who could never expect to ac- 
quire a knowledge of the Latin. To this 
enterprise Mr. Rogers gladly lent the aid of 
his superior learning, and rendered very 
important service to the translators, which 
greatly facilitated its publication. 

In Germany, Mr. Rogers added surpris- 
ingly to his store of erudition, and before 
many years had become what was esteem- 
ed a very wise and learned man, as well 
as a man of most ardent and sincere piety. 
Bye and by. he was solicited to become the 
pastor of one of the Reformed churches, in 



32 JOHN 

Saxony; a trust which he accepted, much 
to the edification of a kind and affectionate 
people, among whom he labored for many 
years. Here, too, he married a wife, and 
was bringing up a numerous family in the 
nurture and admonition of the Lord. 

But, after the death of Henry the Eighth, 
when the dear young Edward had set him- 
self so vigorously to the work of purifying 
the land from idols and vain observances, 
Mr. Rogers began to reflect that his servi- 
ces as a religious teacher might, at this 
junction, be more needed in England than 
in Saxony, where the Reformation was 
already triumphant; and when he receiv- 
ed an urgent request from his young sov- 
ereign, to return and labor at home, he 
found himself unable to resist the appeal, 
and repaired to London, where he was 
made prebendary of St. Paul's Cathedral, 
and afterwards a divinity lecturer. Here 
lie remained during the brief duration of 
Edward's reign, discharging the duties of 



THE MARTYR, 33 

his elevated post with ability and signal 
success. 

But Mary had now ascended the throne, 
and was striving to trample down Protest- 
antism, root and branch. Should he fly 
from a perilous position, and again take 
refuge among the quiet valleys of Saxony, 
where he could still preach the truth, 
with none to molest or disturb him? No. 
Should he submit to the requisitions of the 
"man of sin," and return again to the 
bosom of that corrupt and bloody church, 
which was gathering fresh vigor from the 
contemplation of the field already for a 
reeking harvest? No. No. He would 
stand bravely beside the band of fellow- 
workers, who were ready to go to prison 
and to death for the testimony of Jesus. 
And he did. 

When it came his turn to preach in the 
Cathedral, instead of counseling his people 
to compromise their consciences by a pacifi- 
cation with Rome, he boldly exhorted them 
to remain in the true doctrine, which the 



34 JOHN 

Scriptures inculcate — which the sainted 
Edward had stayed himself upon, in life 
and death, doubtless finding the end of his 
faith in the salvation of his soul. He warn- 
ed them, plainly and solemnly, to beware 
of Popery as an evil and bitter thing, which 
God hateth ; and counseled them to resist 
unto the end, the encroachments of this old 
leprosy of the Church, and cleave to the 
simple truth as Christ taught it. 

For such plain dealing, he was immedi- 
ately summoned before the Queen's Coun- 
cil, where he was able to defend himself 
with so much point and wisdom, that his 
accusers failed of their design, and he was 
for that time set at liberty. 

Soon, however, the Queen issued a proc- 
lamation against the preaching or teach- 
ing of Protestantism, charging those who 
had hitherto done so, with sedition and her- 
esy. Under the operation of this proclama- 
tion, Mr. Rogers was again called before 
the Council, to answer for his former dis- 
courses at St. Paul's, and other places, 



THE MARTYR, 35 

where he had fearlessly preached the truth. 
He was assailed with a torrent of reproach- 
es and revilings, which ended in a com- 
mand "to remain a prisoner in his own 
house. 

And here we can perceive how strong 
were those principles of Christian integrity, 
which actuated him. He might easily have 
escaped from the power of his enemies 
by a secret flight. Perhaps they wished he 
would, or were, at least, willing he should 
make the attempt. Perhaps he was tempt- 
ed to do so, by a contemplation of the sad 
condition into which his native land was 
again plunged, and the little probability of 
an immediate change for the better. His 
flock in Saxony would welcome him as 
their pastor again. There he might freely 
preach the truth as it is in Jesus ; and 
there, too, his young family might find a 
safe and peaceful abode. 

Such considerations as these would fur- 
nish powerful motives to a good man, es- 
pecially a good father, to avert the dangers 



36 JOHN ROGERS, 

which threatened himself and his house- 
hold ; for, Mr. Rogers could not but know 
his innocent wife and children would find 
no favor at' the hands of his persecutors, 
because they belonged to a minister, and 
the Pope forbids ministers to marry, al- 
though the Bible does no such thing. 

But, strong as the motives were to fly, 
there were stronger to remain and face the 
storm, which was beginning to burst over 
the devoted realm. He had been called to 
answer in Christ's cause ; to that cause he 
was pledged; and he chose to honor it by 
life or death, whichever the Supreme Ruler 
of earthly potentates might see most for his 
own glory. He chose to " suffer affliction 
with the people of God rather than enjoy 
the pleasures " of peace and security for a 
season ; and so he remained a voluntary 
prisoner, neither attempting to escape, or to 
shun the perils which surrounded him. 

His persecutors themselves were struck 
with the consistency of this course ; it 
argued a conscience void of offence, and 



THE MARTYR, 37 

this was very likely to reprove those, 
who, in similar circumstances would " flee 
when no man pursueth." They could 
not enjoy the contrast with their own base 
eye-service, which his conduct afforded: 
and so, Bishop Bonner, one of the most 
cruel of all the tools of the bloody Queen 
Mary, commanded him to be removed from 
his own house to Newgate Prison, where 
the vilest of criminals were confined. 
Think what a trial to a grave and pious 
clergyman, to be thrown in among thieves, 
and blasphemers, and murderers, whose 
oaths and obscenity might shock the very 
spirits which dwell in outer darkness. But 
such was the portion of this good man, and, 
doubtless, in imitation of his Master, who 
freely went into the abodes of publicans 
and sinners, to reclaim and reform them, 
Mr. Rogers tried to set before them that 
gospel grace, which excludes not even the 
most abandoned from the kingdom of glo- 
ry, if they will but repent, forsake their 
4 



38 JOHN ROGERS, 

sins, and exercise faith in the Saviour of 
sinners. 

After a while, Mr, Rogers was again 
brought before the Queen's Council, to be 
examined concerning his guilt or innocence 
of the charge of heresy. But they had pre- 
viously determined to proceed in such a 
manner as should leave him little chance 
to defend himself by reasons and argu- 
ments, which they could not answer, and 
which they did not care that the people 
should hear. So they asked him, at once, 
if he would renounce his faith, and return 
again to the Roman Church, and receive 
the Pope as its great head. 

He replied, that he knew no other Head 
of the Church than Christ, the great " Shep- 
herd and Bishop of our souls ;" denying 
any other authority to the Pope than such 
as other Bishops possess. 

This excited great tumult and severe re- 
proaches, which Mr. Rogers endured with 
kness, and yet with a firmness, which 
all the brutal taunts of his angry enemies 



■ 



THE MARTYR. 39 

failed, in the smallest degree, to intimidate. 
He demanded the right to be heard, while 
he defended his opinions and his conduct, 
claiming the protection of the laws of the 
land, so long as he violated none of them. 
But in vain he appealed to law, or right, 
or justice ; all these must bow down before 
the blind bigotry of fierce fanatics. They 
cut short his eloquent and urgent plea for 
liberty to set his position in its true Fight 
before the Council and the world, by ab- 
ruptly offering him the Queen's mercy if 
he would recant and conform, bidding him 
avail himself of it speedily, for, neither 
Mary nor St. Paul were in favor of making 
long conference with heretics. Mr. Rogers 
denied that he was a heretic, and began to 
establish the point so clearly, that his ad- 
versaries, perceiving the advantage he was 
gaining, forthwith ordered him back to 
prison. In his cell, he wrote an account of 
this mock trial, which he concludes in these 
words : — 

" The Lord Chancellor bade to prison 



40 JOHNROGERS, 

with me again. ■ Away, away,' said he, 
1 we have others to examine ; ' if I would 
not be reformed, (so he termed it,) then 
away, away ! At that moment I stood up, 
for I had kneeled all the while, and one 
who stood by, said to me, l Thou wilt not 
burn with this courage when it cometh to 
that ! ' I answered, Sir, I cannot tell ; but 
I trust in my Lord God, yes ! — and I lifted 
mine eyes to Heaven ! " 

Ah, good John Rogers ! He knew wjiere 
to look for help and strength in this hour 
of extremity and peril. He well knew 
whence cometh the renewing of the Christ- 
ian's spiritual might, to do — to bear — to 
venture — to overcome ! And he was helped 
to " fight a good fight, to finish his course" 
and enter into rest. 

Back he went to his loathsome prison, 
amidst scoffing and reviling, too opprobri- 
ous to record; lamenting not that he was 
reviled and evil-entreated; such had been 
the lot of his Divine Master when upon 
earth ; and he well believed that the "dis- 



THE MARTYR. 41 

ciple was not above his master nor the ser- 
vant above his lord," that he might count 
on exemption from such trials — no — but 
that he was not suffered fairly to " contend 
for the faith once delivered to the saints/' 
and honestly to " give a reason of the hope 
that was within him," that all might see 
and understand wherefore he was called to 
suffer. He committed the history of his 
insults and injuries to paper, asking the 
prayers of all true Christians " That both 
he and all the brethren in the same case and 
distress, might despise all manner of threats 
and cruelty, and even the bitter, burning 
fire, and the dreadful dart of death, and 
stick like true soldiers to their dear and lov- 
ing Captain; that they might persevere in 
the fight, if He would not otherwise choose 
to deliver them, till they were cruelly slain 
of His enemies. And if I die," he contin- 
ues, addressing those of like precious faith, 
11 1 must heartily, and with weeping tears, 
pray you to be good to my poor and honest 
wife, being a stranger, and all my little 
4* 



42 JOHN 

souls, hers and my children — whom with 
the whole faithful and true congregation of 
Christ, the Lord of life and death save, 
keep, and defend, in all the troubles and 
assaults of this vain world, and bring at 
the last to everlasting salvation ; Amen — 
Amen ! " 

At his next examination the scene of lev- 
ity and clamor, among the council and by- 
standers, baffles description ; and the earn- 
est voice of Mr. Rogers, as he strove to 
make his grave arguments heard above the 
laughter, jeers, and mockery of his judges 
was, as they intended, completely drowned 
in the disgraceful uproar; and again he 
writes in his cell an account of this " Sec- 
ond confession, that should have been made, 
if it might have been heard ! " 

At this odious manifestation of injustice, 
the people, who had assembled to witness 
the trial, expressed some sympathy with the 
man whom many had known and revered 
as a learned and faithful minister of Christ, 
but who was now subjected to such wrong 



THE MARTYR, 43 

and outrage under the pretence of justice. 
This the Bishops could not tolerate, and 
thenceforth they took care to admit none to 
the examinations but those base enough 
to approve their offensive and abominable 
proceedings. 

Next day a similar scene was enacted in 
the council chamber, whither the prisoner 
was again brought. The Lord Chancellor 
asked whether he would now accept the 
Queen's mercy, which before had been of- 
fered him ; to which question Mr. Rogers 
firmly replied, that having ascertained what 
that mercy meant he utterly refused it ; it 
was the mercy, he said, with which the fox 
or the wolf regard their prey ; a mercy the 
ravenous beast can well afford to show the 
hapless creature so soon to glut his sav- 
age appetite ; but he would accept justice 
at the hands of his sovereign, and of her 
ministers, — nay, with honest vehemence, he 
once more demanded the right to defend 
his opinions either verbally or in writing, 
and conjured the council by every motive 



11 JOHN ROGERS, 

drawn from divine or human laws, to per- 
mit him to do so, under circumstances be- 
fitting the gravity and solemnity of the sub- 
ject. But Bonner and Winchester were not 
to be foiled of their prey by any seeming 
regard to the rights of their helpless victim; 
they refused longer to listen to him ; he had 
contemned the Queen's offer, and persisted 
ill adhering to his heretical doctrines — and 
nothing now remained but to excommuni- 
cate and degrade him, and deliver him up 
to the secular power for the endurance of 
an ignominious death. To these childish 
and frivolous ceremonies Mr. Rogers sub- 
mitted with a dignity which threw addi- 
tional odium on the heartless levity of his 
persecutors. As he was about to be taken 
to prison again, he said he had one last and 
most reasonable request to prefer, which he 
trusted would not be denied. 

" What is it ? " asked the Chancellor. 

"That my poor wife, being a stranger, 
may come and speak with me as long as I 
live;" replied Mr. Rogers, " for she hath 



THE MARTYR, 45 

ten children," he continued, "that are hers 
and mine, and I would counsel her what 
were best to do when I am no longer here." 

" She is not thy wife ! " angrily retorted 
the Chancellor ; "a priest cannot have a 
wife, thou well knowest, and it is not fit 
for thee to see this woman ! " 

" Indeed, my lord," urged the afflicted 
and insulted prisoner, " she hath been these 
eighteen years my lawful wedded wife, the 
virtuous mother of my little ones, and she 
much needeth my counsel." 

But nothing could move the pity of Win- 
chester and his fellows. The humble pe- 
tition was rejected, and with scoffs and rail- 
ing on the subjectofmarriageamong priests, 
Mr. Rogers was once more remanded to 
prison to pray for the little helpless group 
he was about to leave like lambs in the midst 
of prowling wolves ; but he confided them 
again and again, to the charge and keeping 
of that good Shepherd who not only careth 
for the sheep, but is likewise the door of 
the fold, and he knew they were safe : and 



16 JOHN 

though he might never more on earth be- 
hold their loved and familiar countenances, 
he had a joyful and sustaining trust that 
the reunions of eternity would once more 
gather them into his paternal arms, to 
dwell in that " City which hath founda- 
tions whose Builder and Maker is God." 
And so lie essayed to quiet the yearnings of 
natural affection and prepare himself for 
the altar of sacrifice. 

He had now been in prison a year and a 
half, and between his condemnation and ex- 
ecution a few days only intervened; during 
which he wrote many valuable and instruc- 
tive things, although he knew it would be 
the policy of his enemies to destroy what- 
ever might tend to encourage or strengthen 
others to endure such a terrible " fight of 
affliction," looking for the same recompense 
of reward. 

It was in the cell where he was confined 
that those memorable lines which have 
melted many a sensitive little heart, from 
generation to generation, as the Primer has 



THEMARTYR. 47 

descended from father to child, were writ- 
ten ; but whether by Mr. Rogers, or by a 
godly man who had been confined there 
before him, is doubtful. To be sure the 
metre and versification are not very pol- 
ished, and sometimes the sense is obscure 
and involved ; but when we remember 
they were written almost three hundred 
years ago, when our language was much 
more imperfect than at present, and under 
circumstances so unutterably trying, and 
in so near a prospect of one of the most 
dreadful deaths which human cruelty can 
possibly invent, we are ready to excuse 
its faults and regard its excellences with 
peculiar and reverential interest. 

On the morning of Monday, the fourth 
of Feb., 1554, Mr. Rogers was awakened 
from a sound slumber, by the wife of his 
keeper, who came to say that the time had 
arrived, and to bid him make ready for the 
fire. He received the terrible announce- 
ment with perfect composure, and only re- 
marked that he would need to spend little 



48 JOHN ROGERS, 

time in dressing. He was once more taken 
to Bishop Bonner, by whom the foolish 
ceremony of degradation was performed, 
which consisted in attiring the subject in 
the robes of the Romish priesthood, made 
of coarse canvass, placing a mitre upon his 
head, and other tokens of ecclesiastical dig- 
nity, and then, in the presence of the peo- 
ple, stripping them off one by one, and de- 
livering him to his executioners. 

After this unmeaning mummery had been 
submitted to, Mr. Rogers, with the hum- 
blest, but most earnest importunity, once 
more begged permission to see and speak 
with his wife and children before his death. 
This request, to the everlasting disgrace of 
Bonner and his fellow-persecutors, was 
again inhumanly refused, and the martyr 
proceeded to Smithfield, where the last 
frightful scene of the tragedy was to take 
place. 

On the way thither, however, Mr. Rogers 
enjoyed a very unexpected gratification. 
His poor wife, with ten children on foot 



THE MARTYR, 49 

beside her, and a little new-born infant in 
her arms, had stationed themselves on the 
road which he was to pass, and there they 
had their last melting interview. It was 
indeed a spectacle to try a heart of stone. 
A great multitude of people who followed 
to witness the end, were deeply affected, 
and tears were shed, and lamentations and 
wailings were heard on every hand. But 
when they beheld the martyr with steadfast 
faith and courage commend them fervently 
to heaven, and one by one take his last 
earthly leave of the helpless young circle, 
with prayers and blessings, yet with no evi- 
dence of human weakness or repining, they 
were constrained openly to glorify God in 
his behalf, whose grace is sufficient for his 
people in the darkest extremity. 

Arrived at the stake, he addressed the peo- 
ple briefly, exhorting them "to abide faith- 
fully in the doctrine which he had declared 
to them ; for the truth of which he was 
about to add his dying testimony. He was 
5 



60 JOHN 

content, he said, not only to suffer such 
bitterness and cruelty as had already been 
shown him, but also to give his flesh to the 
consuming fire for the witness of Jesus." 

One of the sheriffs, named Woodroff, 
asked him whether he would not now re- 
cant and renounce his heretical opinions'? 

He meekly replied, " That which I have 
preached, will I seal with my blood !" 

" Then thou shalt die an accursed here- 
tic !" rejoined the sheriff. 

" That shall be known," answered the 
martyr, " at the day of judgment." 

" Well," persisted the unfeeling wretch, 
u I will never pray for thee !" 

M But I will for thee," was the Christlike 
response. 

His pardon was now brought and offered 
him, while chained to the stake, if lie would 
even then consent to renounce Protestant- 
ism: but with holy scorn he utterly refused 
it, commending his cause into the hands of 
the Divine Advocate, and fearing rather to 
offefld c: Him who can destroy both soul and 









THE MARTYR, 51 

body, than those who may kill the body, 
but after that have no more that they can 
do." 

The pile was then lighted, and as the 
flames rose about him, he washed his hands 
in them, with a lofty disdain of mere phys- 
ical suffering, compared with the glory 
which should so shortly follow. And thus, 
with wonderful patience and serenity, died 
John Rogers, the first martyr of the reign 
of Bloody Mary. 

After the terrible scene was over, the 
desolate and distressed widow, with her 
eldest son, Daniel, repaired to the cell in 
which the now sainted husband and father 
had spent the weary days of imprisonment, 
in the hope of finding some token from his 
own hand of the manner in which those 
trying days had been borne. Very little 
expectation had they, however, for they 
knew his enemies would be vigilant to 
destroy whatsoever they could find, that 
none might be encouraged to do as he had 



52 JOHN ROGERS. 

done, by being made acquainted with the 
strong consolations. which he had enjoyed. 
They searched, with many bitter tears, and 
were just about to leave the dreary spot, 
with disappointed hearts at the fruitlessness 
of their errand, when young Daniel chanced 
to cast his eyes beneath some neighboring 
stairs, where lay a black object, partially 
concealed by the darkness of the shadow. 
He took it up; it was the cover of an old 
book, but on being unfolded, was found 
to contain the precious records of his 
father's last thoughts, of his various exam- 
inations, and other papers of inestimable 
value to his loving friends, as well as to his 
fellow-sufferers for the truth, which had 
been written in the gloom of that miserable 
dungeon, and thus hidden from the scrutiny 
of his enemies. 

Prom materials thus preserved, the pious 
martyrologist, Fox, has prepared his brief 
notice of Mr. Rogers. From this source, 
the Primer obtained its touching poem; in- 



THE MARTYR, 53 

deed, nearly every thing now known of this 
good man, was derived from that concealed 
old book-cover and its contents, which Mrs. 
Rogers and Daniel bore away from New- 
gate Prison. And enough it contained, to 
show forth the excellency of that religion 
which enabled him to triumph over insult, 
affliction, persecution, pain, and death, in 
defence of the truth. 

We hope this sketch will do more than 
merely gratify the curiosity of the young 
reader in relation to its subject. We wish 
it might impart additional glory, and beau- 
ty, and desirableness, to that blessed> Christ- 
ian cause, which so many good men have 
been called to shed their blood in honoring 
and upbuilding, and furnish an additional 
incentive to childhood and youth to em- 
brace it early ; that it may be exemplified 
and adorned by a long, and consistent, and 
useful life. 

The days of martyrdom are past; but 
there are still difficulties to be overcome, 
5* 



54 JOHN ROGERS. 

and obstacles to be removed, and exertions 
to be made, and means to be provided, for 
the spread and triumph of the truth in all 
the earth. This must cost earnestness 
zeal, self-denial, and the pouring of vast 
sums into the treasury of the Lord. This 
is the toil and sacrifice required in our 
favored times, dear children, and shall it be 
required of you in vain ? 



WILLIAM HUNTER. 55 



WILLIAM HUNTER, 

THE BOY MARTYR. 

Perhaps it would be neither uninteresting 
nor irrelevant to append to the foregoing, a 
brief account of one, who, in his very youth- 
ful years, was called to wear the bright 
crown of martyrdom. It is delightful to 
contemplate the triumph of those high and 
glorious truths, which Jesus came to make 
known to our fallen and guilty world, in 
persons of mature and manly age ; but 
when they shine forth in the young, with a 
brilliancy which lights up the gloom of the 
valley of death, till it even wears an alluring 
and inviting aspect, then, indeed, we behold 
them in a form which challenges our warm- 
est and sincerest admiration, leading us to 
exclaim, " What hath God wrought !" 



56 WILLIAM HUNTER, 

William Hunter, the subject of this 
sketch, was born at Brentwood, in Eng- 
land. His parents, though poor in this 
world's goods, were rich in that " faith 
which is the substance of things hoped for, 
and the evidence of things not seen," and 
they had been enabled to rear their children 
so successfully in that faith, that some of 
them at least, very early exhibited the most 
beautiful illustrations of the faithfulness of 
that promise, " Train up a child in the way 
he should go, and when he is old he will 
not depart from it." This youth, with his 
brother Robert, were among those whose 
names, it might reasonably be believed, 
were early written among the sanctified. 

William had been apprenticed to a silk- 
weaver, in London, and had always ful- 
filled his obligations to his master with 
great fidelity and conscientiousness, remem- 
bering that "one is our Master, even 
Christ/' and that he requires, according to 
our various circumstances in life, custom to 
whom custom is due, service to whom ser- 



THE BOY MARTYR. 57 

vice, fear to whom fear, and honor to whom 
honor. How delightful it is to notice the 
operation of such principles, in the conduct 
of those in subordinate stations; how truly 
they indicate the right spirit, and how sel- 
dom, even in this world, they lose their re- 
ward! 

This lad had doubtless been greatly 
profited by listening to the plain and spirit- 
ual preaching of the Protestant clergymen 
of the metropolis, during the reign of Ed- 
ward the Sixth. Probably he had often 
attended public worship at St. Paul's Cathe- 
dral, where Mr. John Rogers, with other 
pious and learned ministers, preached the 
simple truth of the gospel to immense as- 
semblies of earnest hearers. He had doubt- 
less improved such opportunities as the 
times afforded, for acquainting himself with 
the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New 
Testament, and, limited as they were, it is 
but justice to say, his familiarity with the 
Bible should put to shame many a Sabbath 
scholar, who has been the owner of a Bible 



58 WILLIAM 

ever since he can remember, and yet knows 
very little of its sacred contents. William 
Hunter was obliged to go to some church or 
chapel, in company, perhaps, with a dozen 
more, who might be waiting for their turn 
to read a few verses in the great, public 
Bible chained to the desk. In these days, 
how many would not read it at all, un- 
der similar inconveniences. But William 
thought no sacrifice too severe, to lay up a 
store of its pearls of great price; and while 
the privilege lasted, he was one of its most 
eager and grateful participators. 

But it was now about to be withdrawn. 
A time of darkness and trouble had come. 
Edward, the blessed young reformer was 
dead, and his bloody successor and sister 
had just ascended the throne, thence to send 
down her name to posterity as the embodi- 
ment of every thing harsh, cruel, capricious, 
and unfeeling. Liberty to worship God, in 
simplicity and sincerity, unencumbered by 
the formulas and pageantries of the Romish 
ritual, was now no more. Every one was 






THE BOY MARTYR. 59 

commanded to return to the old idolatries 
and image worship of popery, at the peril 
of liberty, and even life itself. Those who 
refused, could count on little short of death; 
for it was esteemed gross heresy, and for the 
heretic, Rome knows no mercy.. 

It was in the first year of Queen Mary's 
reign, that William Hunter, then an ap- 
prentice in London, as we have before men- 
tioned, was met one day by the priest of the 
parish where his mother resided, and com- 
manded to attend mass on the following 
Easter. Now the mass is one of the most 
idolatrous and absurd of all the observances 
of the Romish church ; and William, hold- 
ing it in abhorrence, in common with all 
Protestants, refused to attend. The priest 
was very angry, and after in vain attempting 
to enforce his command by exciting the 
boy's fears, threatened him with the ven- 
geance of the Bishop. When his master 
heard of William's altercation with the 
priest, and how it had terminated, he began 
to think that if the threat was put in exe- 



60 WILLIAM HUNTER, 

cution, he himself might be implicated in 
the affair, and thereby get into trouble. So 
he told William his apprehensions, and de- 
sired him to leave his employment, if he 
could not conform to the requisitions of the 
priest. This of course he could not do, 
and therefore he left his master, and re- 
turned to his father's house at Brentwood. 
A few weeks afterwards, William went 
into the chapel, and opened the great Bible 
on the desk to read. The Bibles were not 
yet removed from the public places, although 
it was fast becoming a dangerous practice 
to read them, and one looked upon with 
extreme jealousy by the priests. As William 
Hunter read aloud, probably for the benefit 
of some present on a like errand, who could 
not so well make out the sense of the sacred 
oracles, a priest, named Attwell, stepped 
up and began to rebuke him sharply, for 
meddling with a book he could neither un- 
derstand or expound; and added, that it 
was never a merry world since the Bible 
came abroad in English, 






THE BOY MARTYR. 61 

William ventured modestly to dissent 
from this opinion ; he expressed his rever- 
ence for God's word, and his sense of the 
blessing conferred on the people by its cir- 
culation. 

This the priest disputed with warmth, 
alleging the incapacity of the common 
mind to comprehend it; the priests and 
ecclesiastics alone should have to do with 
the Bible ; they can impart to the people 
what is suited to their understanding and 
wants. 

William could not assent to such views, 
and he still attempted to defend the ground 
he had taken, till priest Attwell, flying into 
a rage with the youth, reproached him as a 
heretic, promising in a rude way " that if 
he did not turn over a new leaf he would 
broil for it !" 

" God give me grace/' said the youth, 
"that I may believe his Word and confess 
his name, whatever come thereof." 

" Confess his name! 7 ' cried Attwell, — 
6 



62 



11 you will confess it in perdition all of you 
Protestants, and you deserve no more !" 

William meekly rejoined, " You say not 
well, Father Attwell," ' at which,' remarks 
the martyrologist, ' the priest ran out in a 
rage, and from an ale-house hard by, 
brought in another priest of some higher 
authority than himself, who immediately 
began to question young Hunter.' 

" Sirrah," said he, " who gave you leave 
to read and expound the Bible ?" 

William replied that he did not pretend 
to expound it, but only read therein for his 
own comfort. 

But that was far from satisfying the 
priests, who rebuked him for presuming 
even to do that, and proceeded to inquire how 
he regarded certain doctrines of the Popish 
creed, particularly that of Transubstan- 
tiation, on which they have always laid 
great stress. This doctrine, children, teach- 
es that the bread and wine used in the 
sacrament is changed after its consecration, 
into the real body and blood of our Saviour, 



THE BOY MARTYR. 63 

instead of emblems of the same, as re- 
garded by Protestants; an idea at once so 
monstrous and absurd that the common 
sense of a child would repel it. This was 
one of the doctrines, a denial of which, 
always proved dangerous, and very often 
fatal to the martyrs, as it was esteemed 
unequivocal evidence of the rankest heresy. 

It was for the sake then of drawing this 
youth into a snare, that Father Attwell and 
the other priest, who was called a vicar, 
asked what he thought of the doctrine of 
Transubstantiation, so plainly proved, they 
said, in the sixth chapter of St. John's 
gospel. 

William boldly declared he found no 
such doctrine there ; whereupon they cried 
out upon him as a convicted heretic, and 
after further taunting and threatening him, 
they departed to execute their evil inten- 
tions. 

The vicar went immediately to a justice 
named Brown, and related what had passed, 
with such exaggerations of the truth as he 



64 WILLIAM 

pleased to make. Justice Brown immedi- 
ately sent the constable for William's fa- 
ther, who had just heard from his son's lips 
what had occurred in the chapel, and had 
insisted that he should try to escape from 
the danger he had incurred by so candid a 
testimony for the truth. They questioned 
the old man about William, and inquired 
whither he had gone; but he could not tell. 
The justice at first threatened, and then 
flattered him with many fair promises that 
no harm should come to either of them, if 
he would discover his son's retreat, and 
bring him back. Money was also offered, 
which the poor old man indignantly re- 
fused. But to satisfy the justice, and pre- 
vent any bad consequences if possible, he 
rode about the country for several days, 
neither intending nor wishing to find Wil- 
liam: but greatly to his distress and dis- 
may, he unexpectedly met him on the road, 
and with many tears communicated the 
errand on which he was sent, proposing in 
the agony of his paternal heart, to go back 






THE BOY MARTYR. 65 

to Brentwood as if unsuccessful. To this, 
however, the upright nature of this excel- 
lent youth would not consent, and so he 
voluntarily returned with his father. 

He was instantly seized by the constable 
and put in the stocks for the night. This 
species of confinement consists in securing 
the feet through apertures in strong pieces 
of timber, while the rest of the body is at 
liberty, but obliged to maintain a most un- 
comfortable and uneasy position. But to 
this the lad was perfectly willing to submit : 
indeed, he well understood, that this was 
one of the very lightest inflictions he was 
likely to endure if he witnessed a good con- 
fession for his Divine Master ; as by his 
assisting grace he was firmly resolvetj 
to do. 

The next morning he was taken before 
Justice Brown : who, after a very coarse 
and angry greeting designed to intimidate 
his youthful prisoner, called for a Bible 
and opened it. saying, " I hear say you are 
a Scripture man — you can reason and ex- 
6* 



66 



pound as much as pleaseth you!" He 
then alluded to what he had said to the 
vicar in the chapel. 

' ' When we consider," says William's biog- 
rapher, u the very limited education enjoyed 
by persons of his rank in life, it becomes 
doubly interesting to trace the enlightening 
effect produced on their mental no less than 
their spiritual understanding by the study 
of God's word, which is able to make the 
most ignorant, wise unto salvation. The 
justice no doubt, thought he might easily 
silence a poor apprentice boy, by his united 
learning and authority." Mark how en- 
tirely he failed. Turning frorfi the sixth 
of John to the twenty second of Luke, 
he said, " Look here; Christ saith, that 
the bread is his body ! " 

William reflected a moment, and then 
replied, " The text saith how Christ took 
/. but not that he changed it into 
another substance," (as the word Transub- 
stantiation signifies) " but gave that which 
he took, and brake that which he gave, 



THE BOY MARTYR. 67 

which was nothing but bread as is evident 
from the text." 

At this, Mr. Brown in great anger, took 
the Bible, turned over the leaves, and 
flung it down again violently, exclaiming, 
K Thou naughty boy ! Thou wilt not take 
things as they are, but expound them to 
thy mind. Doth not Christ call the bread 
his body plainly? And thou wilt not be- 
lieve that the bread is his body even after 
consecration. Thou goest about to make 
Christ a liar ! " 

"I mean not so, sir," answered William; 
"but rather, more earnestly to search what 
the mind of Christ is in that holy institu- 
tion wherein he commandeth us to remem- 
ber his suffering, death, and resurrection, 
saying, ( This do in remembrance of me.' 
And also, though Christ call the bread his 
body, as he doth also say that he is a vine, 
a door, and yet is not his body turned into 
bread any more than he is turned into 
a door or a vine. He here useth figures of 
speech." 



68 WILLIAM HUNTER, 

The justice grew at every word more 
enraged ; lie was unable to carry on the 
argument, perceiving that William had the 
advantage, and therefore could only utter 
scoffs and taunts and reviling in reply to 
him, till weary of his brutality and the 
confusion of the same, he requested of the 
justice " that he would either suffer him to 
anwer for himself, and hear him quietly, 
or else send him away." 

" Indeed, I will send thee away tomor- 
row to my lord of London, and he shall 
examine thee to thy content," answered 
the magistrate ; and he was as good as his 
word ; for he immediately wrote a letter to 
Bonner, the cruel Bishop of London, and 
the next day dispatched it and young 
William together by the constable. 

In his first interview with Bishop Bon- 
ner, that crafty persecutor began with 
great mildness to talk with him, promising 
that if he would at once turn to the Roman 
Catholic faith, all that had passed should 
be overlooked. The youth answered, 



THE BOY MARTYR. 69 



"that he had never fallen from the Ca- 
tholic church of Christ, but believed and 
confessed it with all his heart." 

The Bishop than inquired concerning 
his belief in the doctrine of Transubstan- 
tiation, to which he replied, 

"I understood justice Brown to have 
certified your lordship of my opinions in 
that matter; which, by God's help I will 
never recant ! " 

The artful Bishop then suggested that he 
might be ashamed to recant openly; but if 
he would there, between themselves alone, 
acknowledge his error and conform, he 
promised it should go no farther and he 
might return home in peace. 

The youth replied that he would gladly 
return to live with his father, or his master, 
if he might be allowed liberty of con- 
science ; if no one would disquiet his con- 
science he would intrude his opinions upon 
none. 

The Bishop readily agreed to this, 
provided he would go to the church, and 



70 WILLIAM HUNTER, 

outwardly obswve all their ceremonies and 
superstitions! 

This, our heroic young confessor hon- 
estly declared he would not do for the 
worth of the world ! 

Bonner now, as might have been ex- 
pected, flew into a passion, and changed 
his policy and his tone towards William 
Hunter. His mild expostulations and 
promises had been lost upon a youth 
whom he was quite sure of winning over 
to popery by a few smooth and flattering 
words, but whom he found quite as obsti- 
nate and self-willed as any of the doctors 
of divinity ! 

11 You will not recant!" exclaimed the 
Bishop; "I will make you do so in good 
earnest, I warrant you ! " 

"You can do no more than God will 
permit you/' replied William, humbly. 

11 Wilt thou not indeed recant?" shouted 
Bonner. 

11 No, never, while I live, God willing," 
lie answered firmly. 



THE BOY MARTYR. 71 

Upon this, a command was given to 
place him once more in the stocks, where 
he sat for two days and nights, with only 
a crust of brown bread and a cup of water 
provided for his refreshment. The Bishop 
paid him a visit at the end of this time, 
expecting to find his courage very essen- 
tially daunted. Seeing the bread and water 
untouched beside him, he ordered his serv- 
ants to liberate him and give him a sub- 
stantial meal. Afterwards the Bishop sent 
for him, and again tried to persuade him 
to renounce his heretical opinions, as he 
chose to regard them ; but with no better 
success than before. Bonner then re- 
proached him for denying the faith in 
which he was baptized. 

" I was baptized in the faith of the Holy 
Trinity," answered the resolute boy; "the 
which I will never go from, God assisting 
me by his grace." 

Bonner now lost all patience ; he de- 
livered him to the keeper of the felon's 
prison, and commanded that he should be 



72 WILLIAM HUNTER, 

loaded with irons, as many as he could 
bear; telling William, after he had in- 
quired his age, that he would be burned 
before he was a year older, if he did not 
yield. 

William simply replied, "God strengthen 
me in his truth!" and so went meekly to 
prison. 

Here he remained for nine months, 
quietly enduring the miseries allotted him, 
and even rejoicing that he, a mere boy, 
was accounted worthy of so distinguished 
an honor in the church, as to suffer for his 
dear Saviour's sake. 

But the designing Bishop Bonner seemed 
bent on his apostasy; fearing, doubtless, 
the effect of such heroic faith in one so 
young, upon the common people, particu- 
larly those of his age and station, who to 
every community are very numerous, and 
therefore powerful. He had sent for him 
no less than five times since his imprison- 
ment, to make at each interview some fresh 
assault upon his courage and constancy 



THE BOY MARTYR. 73 

But all was in vain; the Lord was pleased 
so to sustain his youthful servant in the 
midst of his severe trials and temptations, 
that he was able to trample under foot the 
manifold devices by which the Adversary 
sought to draw away his soul from its 
steadfastness. 

At last he was condemned to be taken 
back to Brentwood, his native town, and 
there burnt to ashes ! Others were con- 
demned at the same time ; and after re- 
ceiving his sentence he was set aside to 
speak with Bonner when the rest should 
be dismissed to their prisons. 

"Once more 1 give thee choice between 
life and death, " said the Bishop; "thy sen- 
tence can yet be revoked;— and if thou wilt 
even now recant, thou shalt be no loser 
thereby in point of worldly thrift; for I 
will make thee a freeman in the city, and 
give thee forty pound in good money to set 
up thy occupation withal; or, I will make 
thee steward of my house, and set thee in 
office. I like thee well, for thou hast wit 



7 1 WILLIAM HUNTER, 

enough, and will surely prefer thee if thou 
recant ! " 

Ah, how sore a temptation — how wily a 
stratagem to entrap a young and unwary 
soul ! To be rewarded, enriched, patron- 
ized, and even raised to some lucrative of- 
fice by so great a man as the Bishop of 
London ! He, a poor apprentice boy ! But 
mark how that blessed promise to the faith- 
ful was fulfilled, "My grace is sufficient for 
thee!" 

11 1 thank you for your generous offers," 
replied the steadfast youth ; " notwithstand- 
ing, my lord, I cannot find in my heart to 
turn from God for the love of the world ; 
for I count all things but loss in compari- 
son with the love of Christ ! " Noble, 
apostolic confession ! 

'• Well," retorted the disappointed Bish- 
op, "I have now done with thee; but let 
me tell thee, if thou diest in this mind, 
thou art condemned forever." 

"Godjudgeth righteously," William &n- 



THE BOY MARTYR. 75 

swered, " and justifieth them whom man 
condemneth unjustly ! " 

William Hunter remained a month 
longer in prison and was then conducted to 
Brentwood, his home, there to glorify God 
by offering up his life on the altar of his 
faith. 

The day designated for his execution 
proved a popish holiday, and therefore it 
was deferred till the morrow ; thus afford- 
ing an opportunity they would not other- 
wise have enjoyed, for his afflicted friends 
to visit him. But precious as such a son 
must have been, his pious parents instead 
of lamenting over his fate, gave thanks to 
God for his steadfastness in confessing the 
truth, and prayed with moving importunity 
that he might thus endure unto the end. 

His beloved mother, although her heart 
was bursting with the natural tenderness and 
sympathy of maternal love, and fully aware 
that her son's eternal gain would be her ir- 
reparable earthly loss, could yet rejoice that 
she was so happy as to possess a child who 



?f) WILLIAM HUNTER, 

coukl find in his heart to lose his life for 
the testimony of Jesus. Again and again 
she expressed these thoughts to William, 
whom they greatly animated and consoled. 

" Ah, yes, mother!" he answered, u for 
the little pain that I may suffer, Christ 
hath promised me a crown of endless joy, — 
may you not be glad of that mother?" 

With that his mother kneeled down say- 
ing, " I pray God strengthen thee to the 
end, my son, that this crown and this pre- 
cious inheritance may certainly be thine." 

At these words, a pious gentleman of the 
neighborhood, a Mr. Higbed, who was him- 
self ordained to serve his Lord and Master 
by the sacrifice of his life on the altar of 
martyrdom, came in and heartily rejoiced 
with the parents of the devoted youth that 
they were so honored as to call him their 
son ; and like Abraham of old offer him an 
acceptable and a willing sacrifice to heaven. 
Other friends said the same, and many 
importunate petitions went up to the 
throne of grace that the young confessor 



THE BOY MARTYR. 77 

might patiently and gloriously attain the 
end of his faith, even the salvation of his 
soul ; comforted by his Father's rod and 
staff while he walked through fiery billows 
to the haven of eternal rest. 

It was in an inn at Brentwood thatTthis 
interview took place ; for William was not 
allowed to tarry till the fatal hour under 
his father's roof, but kept under guard of 
sheriffs and constables at the public house. 
A great many of his young friends and 
acquaintances called to have a last sight of 
their old playmate under circumstances so 
terribly trying ; some began to reason with 
him, and try to persuade him to save his 
life by recanting ; while he in return, 
earnestly admonished them to turn from 
the idolatries and superstitions of the church 
of Rome, and serve God with that sim- 
plicity and spirituality which his word 
enjoins. 

At length the appointed morning dawned, 
and William was roused from a disturbed 
sleep, which indicated by an unusual noise 
J 



78 



WILLIAM HUNTER, 



and agitation, that some conflict was going 
on in imagination. His friend, Mr. Higbed, 
asked him what he had been dreaming. It 
was a dream, shortly after verified ; that of 
vehemently rejecting a pardon offered him 
at the stake ! 

The son of the sheriff who had been 
William's friend and playfellow from in- 
fancy, came in soon after, deeply affected by 
the grim preparations going on for the 
burning. He wept convulsively, and throw- 
ing his arms around the young martyr's , 
neck, and with childlike pity, and sim- 
plicity, said to him, " Willy, do not be 
afraid of these men who are coming with 
scowling faces and heavy weapons to carry 
you to the place where you are to be burned 
up ! Oh, William ! Oh, William ! How can 
you ] How dare you ? " 

" I thank God, I am not afraid," replied 

the lad, returning his friend's embrace ; " I 

have cast my counts already what it will 

cost me, as well as what it will gain me ; — 

hi incorruptible inheritance an unfading 






THE BOY MARTYR. 79 

crown, riches without wings, and the peace 
of God which passeth understanding ! " 

The' sheriff's son could reply only by his 
fast flowing tears, and thus they parted. 

With a cheerful countenance, and a light 
step, this heroic young soldier of Christ 
then gathered up his robe, and proceeded to 
the place of execution, led on one side by 
the sheriff, and on the other by his affec- 
tionate and faithful brother Robert, who 
had been untiring in his efforts to comfort 
and sustain him in the near prospect of 
an agonizing death. There is a natural 
dread of physical suffering which even ex- 
alted faith is not always entirely able to 
subdue ; and William doubtless derived 
both strength and courage from his pious 
brother's constant and cheering suggestions. 
At any rate it furnished a beautiful exam- 
ple of fraternal tenderness, to accompany 
him to the very scene, and through the 
very endurance of his last dreadful suffer- 
ing, braving every hazard to which such 
disinterested affection exposed him. 



BO WILLIAM 

On the road they met their old gray- 
headed father, weeping at the heart-rending 
spectacle. " God be with thee, my son, 
William," sobbed the afflicted parent. 

11 And God be with you, good father," 
replied he ; " be of good comfort, for I am 
sure we shall meet again, where we shall 
all be merry ! " 

The poor father answered, " I hope so, 
William ! " and took his final leave of his 
beloved boy. 

11 Were not the parents of this blessed 
youth," writes one, " partakers in a special 
degree, of the faith of Abraham ? Was it 
not a holy and acceptable sacrifice which 
they so meekly, and so unrepiningly, yea, 
so thankfully offered upon the altar of their 
steadfast faith 1 Oh, that the tale may sink 
deep into the heart of every parent who 
hears it. The day may yet come that shall 
test them and their children even with 
fire !" 

When William Hunter arrived at the 
spot where the execution was to take place, 



THE BOY MARTYR. 81 

every thing was in so unprepared a state, 
that much delay was likely to be occa- 
sioned ; and therefore in the most profitable 
manner to occupy the brief remainder of 
life, he took a bundle of sticks prepared for 
his burning, and kneeling down upon it, 
commenced reading the fifty-first Psalm;— 
a portion of Scripture especially precious 
to the sufferers for Jesus 1 sake. But the 
cruel fanaticism of some Romanist by- 
standers, interrupted even his last humble 
devotions. A letter from the queen was 
brought, offering him pardon if he would re- 
cant ; if not, he was to be burned immedi- 
ately. 

"No, no!" he exclaimed, with fervent 
emphasis, " I will never recant, God will- 
ing ! " And rising from his knees he went 
up to the stake, and placed himself upright 
against it, where he was immediately 
chained by his old and bitter enemy, Justice 
Brown. 

This hard-hearted and bigoted magis- 
trate, bustled about with great apparent 



82 WILLIAM 

complacency in the scene, in which he was 
a prominent actor, as he had been a pro- 
curer in an important sense ; and he seemed 
to regard the meek young lamb he had 
led to the slaughter, with the same sav- 
age delight with which the hungry tiger 
eyes a victim already in his merciless 
clutches. 

u More faggots, — more faggots ! " roared 
the justice, " there is not wood enough to 
burn a leg of him ! " 

11 Good people," exclaimed William, 
" pray for me ; and make speed to despatch 
me quickly ! — Oh, pray, pray for me while 
ye see I live, and I will pray for you like- 
wise ! " 

" Pray for thee ! " exclaimed the inhu- 
man justice ; " I will no more pray for thee 
than I would pray for a dog ! " 

William calmly replied, " Mr. Brown, 
you now have my life, — that which you 
sought for; I pray God it be not laid to 
your charge in the last day ; for I most 
heartily forgive you ! " 



THE BOY MARTYR. S3 

" I ask no forgiveness of thee," retorted 
the hardened persecutor. 

" I forgive thee, notwithstanding," re- 
joined William, " and if God forgive 
you, I will not require my blood at your 
hands ! " 

Then looking upward, he ejaculated, 
" Son of God, shine upon me ! " and at the 
same moment, from the sky, which had 
been darkly overspread with clouds, there 
shot forth so dazzling a ray of sunshine, 
full in the young martyr's upturned face, 
that he was compelled through the sudden 
and excessive splendor to look another way. 
This incident was much remarked by the 
people who stood round him. 

At this moment a Romish priest ap- 
proached Robert Hunter, desiring him to 
carry a book he held in his hand to his 
brother, in order that he might be induced 
by its contents to recant. But Robert refused 
to touch it, and so the priest himself drew 
near to the stake where William stood 
chained, and holding the book open before 



B4 WILLIAM 

htm, requested him to read therein. He 
recoiled from both book and priest, bidding 
him away with his false doctrines, and 
once more exhorting the people to come out 
from the abominations of Popery. 

The priest indignantly remarked to him, 
" Look, how thou burnest here — so shalt 
thou burn in the deepest hell ! " The true 
spirit of Romanism toward those who " obey 
not her decrees," in all ages. 

Fire was now applied to the pile, while 
some pious voice cried out, "God have 
mercy on his soul," and all the people vehe- 
mently responded, " Amen, Amen ! " 

As the flame arose William cast his 
Psalter right into his brother's hand. u Wil- 
liam, dear William ! " said the agonized 
Robert, " Think on the sufferings of our 
blessed Lord, and be not afraid of death ! n 

u 1 am not afraid," gasped the poor 
young sufferer, " Lord, Lord, Lord, receive 
my spirit ! " 

Then he bowed his head over the volumes 
of suffocating smoke which arose from the 



THE BOY MARTYR. 85 

wet wood, and very soon was beyond the 
reach of all human torture ; having entered, 
as a good and faithful servant, into the joy 
of his Lord. 



8 



86 THE WORLD BOUGHT 



THE "WORLD" BOUGHT FOR NINE 
SHILLINGS. 

Rev. Dr. Vaughan, an eminent Congrega- 
tional Minister, and President of the Lan- 
cashire Independent College, in a lecture 
on Persia, related the following anecdote : 

He said that he well remembered when 
very young, possessing, for the first time, a 
guinea. He remembered too, that this cir- 
cumstance cost him no little perplexity and 
anxiety. As he passed along the streets, 
the fear of losing his guinea induced him 
frequently to take it out of his pocket to 
look at it. First he put it into one pocket, 
and then he took it out and put it into an- 
other : after a while he took it out of the 
second pocket and placed it in another, real- 
ly perplexed what to do with it. At length 
h is attention was arrested by a book auction. 
He stepped in and looked about him. First 



FOR NINE SHILLINGS. 87 

one lot was put up, and then another, and 
sold to the highest bidder. At last he ven- 
tured to the table just as the auctioneer was 
putting up the " History of the World," in 
two large folio volumes. He instantly 
thrust his hand into his pocket, and began 
turning over his guinea, considering all the 
while whether he had money to buy this lot. 
The bidding proceeded; at last he ventured 
to bid too. " Hallo, my little man," said 
the auctioneer, " what, not content with less 
than the whole world ? n This remark 
greatly confused him, and drew the atten- 
tion of the whole company towards him, 
who, seeing him anxious to possess the 
books, refrained from bidding against him, 
and so the " World" was knocked down 
to him at a very moderate price. How to 
get these books home was the next consid- 
eration. The auctioneer offered to send 
them, but he not knowing what sort of 
creatures auctioneers were, determined to 
take them himself. So, after the assistant 
had tied them up, he marched out of the 



S8 THE WORLD BOUGHT 

room with these huge books on his shoul- 
ders, like Sampson with the gates of Gaza, 
amidst the smiles of all present. When he 
reached his home, after the servant had 
opened the door, the first person he met was 
his mother. " My dear boy," said she, 
" what have yon got there ? I thought you 
would not keep your guinea long." u Do 
not be angry, mother," said he, throwing 
them down upon the table, " I have bought 
the ' World ' for nine shillings." This was 
on Saturday, and he well remembered sit- 
ting up till it was well nigh midnight, turn- 
ing over this " History of the World." 
These books became his delight, and were 
carefully read through and through. As he 
grew older he at length became a Christian, 
and his love of books naturally led him to 
desire to become a Christian minister. To 
the possession of these books he attributed, 
in a great measure, any honors in connec- 
tion with literature that had been added to 
his name. He did not mention the circum- 
stance to gratify any foolish feeling, but to 



FOR NINE SHILLINGS. 89 

in young persons, that love of 
literature which had afforded him such un- 
speakable pleasure — pleasure which he 
would not have been without for all the 
riches of the Indies. 



THY MOTHER. 

" Cling to thy mother — for she was the first 
To know thy being, and to feel thy life ; 

The hope of thee through many a pang she nursed, 
And when 'midst anguish like thy parting strife, 

Her babe was in her arms, the agony 

Was all forgot, for bliss of loving thee. 

Uphold thy mother — close to her warm heart 
She carried, fed thee, lulled thee to thy rest ; 

Then taught thy tottering limbs thy untried art, 
Exulting in the fledgling from her nest ; 

And now her steps are feeble — be her stay, 

Whose strength was thine, in thy most feeble day. 

Cherish thy mother — brief perchance the time 
May be, that she may claim the care she gave ; 

Passed are her hopes of youth, her harvest prime 
Of joy on earth ; her friends are in the grave ; 
9 



90 

But for her children, she could lay her head 
Gladly to rest among her precious dead. 

Be tender with thy mother — words unkind, 
Or light neglect from thee will give a pang 

To that fond bosom, where thou art enshrined 
In love unutterable, more than fang 

Of venomed serpent ; — wound not her strong trust, 

As thou would'st hope for peace when she is in the 
dust. 

Mother beloved ! oh , may I ne'er forget, 
Whatever be my grief, or what my joy, 

The unmeasured, the unextinguishable debt 
I owe thy love ; but find my sweet employ, 

Ever, through thy remaining days, to be 

To thee as faithful as thou art to me." 



AAAAAAAAAAAA 

THE END. 
IA/IA/UV W XA/UV 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: March 2006 

PreservatlonTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 






on 



